


The Repentance of Robert Baratheon

by ChristopherR117



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Moving On, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 19:30:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15892620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristopherR117/pseuds/ChristopherR117
Summary: Ned Stark's unexpected death brings Robert South to say goodbye to his best friend. With both him and Jon Arryn gone, he realizes the sacrifices his adopted Brother and Father made and begins his quest to be a better King and a better man.





	The Repentance of Robert Baratheon

**Author's Note:**

> Just the prologue For Now, glad to hear your thoughts

"Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects." The words were difficult for him to say, and he in truth, he was not sure he would have the strength to tell them. His arrival was unexpected, but head rushed North as soon as the words reached King's Landing. No one in the city could stop him when he set his mind to something, this was no exception.

The Warden of the North Seemed to understand correctly, Even Cersei seemed to understand, in a moment of rare sympathy, she offered his shoulder a tender squeeze as he passed. Lanterns were brought forth, and the Lord of Winterfell led him to the crypts.

Through the snowy courtyard and the stonewalls which seemed devoid of warmth. To a simple wooden door with stone, Direwolf's on either side and cracks in the wall around it. Through a Long stairwell that left him exhausted and wearier than he was when he started, he followed the young lord in front of him.

He should say something, but he had never been good with words. That was Jon's talent, and as much as he tried, he could never pass it down. He felt tears prick at his eyes as he remembered the days spent in the Eyrie, but shook them off.

Down here they would freeze to your face, and that was a pathetic way for him to die, Jon and Ned deserved better than that considering what they gave up for him.

Dark caverns beneath the ancient castle, older than the Dragon Kings and the Iron throne which they made with fire and blood. Something in Robert stirred at that thought, as there were few things viler than a Targaryen in his mind. However, he would not let those Dark thoughts reach him. He was here to grieve not to let memories haunt him.

The sound of their footfalls and the cold which seeped into Roberts' bones were his only company as they descended into the crypts of Winterfell. He could hear the wind howling through the dark halls, and if he closed his eyes it would sound like a voice he hadn't heard in years. Again tears, that he refused to let fall came to his eyes.

They stopped suddenly in front a statue, an Iron sword Fresh from the forge sat on a dour-faced man's lap. Robert didn't recognize the face.

"It looks nothing Like him," Robert said after a moment of silence, his voice was hoarse and scratchy. Not even wine could sooth the ache he felt in his heart and bones. "There's no warmth in these stone eyes, and no smile behind that beard, this is not Ned."

"Your Grace, I'm sorry if the statue is not to your liking," Robb Stark said, the boy's voice was heavy and grief and his voice unsteady. Even in the Low light, Robert saw the dampness around his eyes.

"Damn it, Ned," Robert fell to his knees before his eldest friend, "You deserved more than darkness in a cold forgotten crypt." Robert cried, his body shaking as the King sobbed in front of the stone tomb. "I'd give it all up if I could, this crown and these seven Kingdoms to have you by my side again."

"He was a Stark, this is his home," Robb spoke, falling to his knees beside the king. His tears were silent as they glided down his cheek.

"He was my friend, and my brother," Robert snapped back, staring up at the statue, willing Ned to speak through some divine intervention. Praying to the seven and the Old Gods didn't help, and the statue remained frozen.

In his death, Eddard Stark left behind six children a grieving wife and an emptiness that all the whores and wine in the Seven Kingdoms couldn't fill. Their faces would forever be burned in Robert's mind.

Catelyn who wore black months after her husband's death and had a heart of stone. Ned's children who seemed so broken and despondent that nothing in this world could hope to bring back their laughter.

If he died tomorrow, he knew that Cersei would be wearing Red the Same Day. His children wouldn't even remember him, and the Seven Kingdoms would be better off without him.

He wished he could make that trade. He would gladly give whatever life he had left just so Ned could kiss his wife goodbye and hug his children one more time, but the Gods would never take that trade, perhaps they knew that even if he was a King, they had the better man.  
It was not fair.

It was not right.

He was alone now.

It Should have been him.

**Author's Note:**

> This series will be a large number of short chapters, just small ficlets that describe Roberts attempts to do right by the Stark Family and his Kingdom. As well as his attempts to get closer to his own wife and children, with varying success. Next Chapter, Robert deals with his demons.


End file.
